


could this be love at first sight, or should i walk by again?

by Arkham



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty Doesn't Play Hockey, F/M, Jack never went to Samwell, M/M, Meet-Cute, falcs jack, mentions actual hockey players
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkham/pseuds/Arkham
Summary: "Who's this Zimmermann guy?" Shitty echoes, voice several notches louder than Bitty's. A few people glance their way and Lardo rolls her eyes. "He's only the best player the NHL's seen since Sidney Crosby," he goes on, obviously enthused."So, he's...good?" Bitty offers."Bitty, my man, my bro, my sweet summer child. Jack motherfucking Zimmermann is like poetry on skates. The guy has a psychic connection with the ice. He could punch me in the face and I would thank him."





	could this be love at first sight, or should i walk by again?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [4redraws](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=4redraws).



> for [@4redraws](https://4redraws.tumblr.com)  
> Happy Valentine's Day!

It's the Falcs' first home game of the season and Shitty and Lardo had managed to drag Bitty out of his midterm-induced study-avoidance baking fest for the night to go along with them.

Bitty's never thought much of hockey; he doesn't follow teams or anything like that. He knows generally how the game is played and goes to Samwell's home games to cheer Shitty on sometimes but other than that the closest he gets to hockey is bumping into hockey players when they clear the ice for the figure skaters.

Shitty is decked out head to toe in Falcs gear, complete with a jersey with a "C" on the front and "Zimmermann #1" on the back. Lardo's approach is more subdued and she's wearing a beanie with the Falcs logo. When they're milling through the crowd to try to find their seats, Bitty notices that a lot of the people wearing Falcs jerseys also happen to be wearing Zimmermann's.

"Who's this Zimmermann guy?" Bitty asks, his arm looped in Lardo's as Shitty directs them both to a food stand.

"Who's this Zimmermann guy?" Shitty echoes, voice several notches louder than Bitty's. A few people glance their way and Lardo rolls her eyes. "He's only the best player the NHL's seen since Sidney Crosby," he goes on, obviously enthused.

"So, he's...good?" Bitty offers.

"Bitty, my man, my bro, my sweet summer child. Jack motherfucking Zimmermann is like poetry on skates. The guy has a psychic connection with the ice. He could punch me in the face and I would thank him."

Lardo rolls her eyes again.

"C'mon, Shits, I'm ready to eat my body weight in popcorn and watch some dudes who make millions of dollars a year pass around a piece of rubber and slam each other into walls for two hours," she says.

Shitty focuses for long enough to order—hot dogs for Bitty and Shitty, and a bucket of popcorn as big as his head for Lardo—before diving back into his Falconers rant. He seems entirely dedicated to telling Bitty as much about the team as possible and Bitty's content to let him.

"—and their starting goalie is Snowy—Griffin Snow, #24." Shitty points to the ice. The teams had filed out a few minutes ago for warm-ups and sure enough, there is #24 in giant pads doing some wiggling stretches in front of the goal.

"Two weeks ago, he got into a fight with Tuukka Rask,” Lardo says. “It was ‘swawesome.”

"It _was_ ‘swawesome," Shitty beams, nudging Lardo with a grin. "Bruins goalie," Shitty supplies at Bitty's confused look.

The Falcs start taking practice shots at the net and Bitty spots the #1 jersey. Nothing about him seems particularly extraordinary but then again, Bitty's hockey reference is Shitty so he figures his opinions are skewed.

The teams file off. 

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick," Bitty says and Shitty gives him a thumbs up. He may not know much about hockey but from the way Shitty's been going on and on about various members of the team he's actually starting to get kind of excited. "We'll make a Falcs fan of you yet, young Padawan," Shitty had grinned before shooing him off.

Bitty thought he'd remembered where the bathroom was, but he gets pushed around by the crowd and ends up in a hallway he's almost certain he's not allowed to be in, not quite sure how he even got there. He's clutching his phone like a lifeline.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be back here," a gruff voice says from behind him, echoing his thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry I was just looking for the bathroom and I—" Bitty says as he whirls around. His voice stutters to a halt when he sees who it is. He's facing Bitty so Bitty can't see the name on the back of his jersey but Bitty can see the "C" and that's enough of a tip-off.

Bitty frowns. "Aren't you supposed to be on the ice?"

That must not have been the reaction Zimmermann was expecting because he laughs. Bitty blinks. Shitty had conveniently forgotten to mention that Jack looked like an _actual model_ , even with all the hockey gear on and his hair messy and slicked back. 

"Not for the next ten minutes. Needed to get away for a bit."

Bitty smiles. On the ice, Zimmermann had been untouchable but here he looks so...human. And Bitty can't tear his gaze away from those _eyes_ , lord.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Mr. Zimmermann," Bitty says, remembering his manners. "I'll be honest, most of what I know about hockey I learned in the past half hour _but_ when my friend wasn't talking about how awesome Snowy's fight with Tuukka Rask was, he was talking about how talented you were. Are." Bitty feels his cheeks warm up.

Jack ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck with his hand and isn't that just the most adorable thing Bitty has ever seen? 

"I'm all right," he says demurely, glancing back up at Bitty with a smile. "And please, call me Jack."

"Bitty," he says, holding his hand out for Zimmermann—Jack—to shake. Jack's hand is sinfully massive but deceptively soft in his.

"Here," he says suddenly, motioning for Bitty's phone.

Bitty hands it over, not exactly sure what's happening. Jack taps a few buttons and hands it back. "I gotta go but, ah, next time you get lost...call me, eh?"

Bitty's jaw almost drops to the floor. Is Jack Zimmermann, star of the Providence Falconers, _flirting with him_? He collects himself enough to brighten his smile. "I think I will. Thanks, Jack. Um. Good luck."

"Thanks, Bitty."

Then Jack is gone and Bitty is left clutching his phone and staring in disbelief at the little hockey stick emoji next to Jack's name.

 

————

 

Jack scores a hat trick and Falcs win 5-1 against the Avs.

Bitty thinks he might start getting into hockey.


End file.
